


Eyes on You

by GioseleLouise



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Reconciliation, Slow Burn, Thanatos POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:42:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26994616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GioseleLouise/pseuds/GioseleLouise
Summary: “It’s true then, Mother?” Thanatos whispers, low enough that Lord Hades can't hear. It’s barely a question at this point, more of an acknowledgement of the growing ache in his chest.“Zagreus wants to leave The Underworld?”--Zagreus’ departure from Thanatos’ point of view.
Relationships: Megaera & Thanatos (Hades Video Game), Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 98
Kudos: 477





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 13 October: I fell in love with Thanatos after the first encounter. That interaction just screamed recent bad breakup/pining T.T
> 
> Fic has a teeny bit of canon dialogue but is mostly canon divergent to speed up the uh...romance. Thar be spoilers.
> 
> \--
> 
> 31 January: I'm so sorry, this has transformed. It's turned from a 3-Chapter reconciliation fic into a multi-chap angsty slow burn. Oops.

The Prince has gone to the surface. Again.

Lord Hades loathes the topic, so it’s whispered in the hallway outside the ruined lounge. Rebellious shades mutter about it in the bare corner of the West Wing. Even the souls bringing grievances to Lord Hades seem abuzz with awareness and excitement - nothing interesting ever happens in The Underworld and now the Prince is defying his Lord Father by pledging the impossible.

Thanatos ignores it. He tells himself its hearsay even though the words cut like broken glass on his skin. This is a misunderstanding. The Prince is probably doing an errand close to the surface. Maybe Lord Hades sent his son out of the house in his typical explosive manner and the situation was misconstrued.

Zagreus wouldn’t just _leave_. Death cannot rest on the surface; Zagreus knows Thanatos belongs to the Underworld and for him to casually abandon this growing thing between them, like what they have is _nothing_ is-

Zagerus wouldn’t do that.

Thanatos waits for a head of black hair framed by fiery wreaths to pop out behind a pillar. Or for a familiar voice to call his name from a shadowy hallway, laughing about ridiculous rumors. He hopes a pair of red and green eyes are watching him from his balcony, their owner smiling warmly and welcoming Thanatos back home.

It gets harder to breathe with each passing minute of silence, and Thanatos soon finds his answer.

It’s obvious in Lord Hades’ brooding and caustic dismissal of any “sudden” damages across Tartarus. Cerebus restlessly claws at stone, Hypnos smirks at groups of tattling shades, and Achilles listens to the gossip with quiet pride. Even Mother greets the whispers with an omnipotent smile, and _that_ destroys any potential of hope because Mother Nyx doesn’t entertain frivolities. She doesn’t entertain _anything_ unless she’s sure of the outcome.

“It’s true then, Mother?” Thanatos whispers, low enough that Lord Hades can't hear. It’s barely a question at this point, more of an acknowledgement of the growing pain in his chest.

“Zagreus is trying to leave the Underworld?”

“I told him to find his mother,” she explains calmly. “Zagreus has a right to know the truth about his parentage. While we are bound to keep Hades’ secret, the pact doesn’t extend to the Queen. I believe Zagreus may also be the key to fixing this situation with Lady Persephone.”

Thanatos swallows the knot in his throat. He should be better, he should ask Mother what she means or offer his assistance, because Mother always, always, _always_ has pure intentions. But what comes out is: "So Zagreus was convinced to go to the surface? He did it for this...mission?"

Maybe Zagreus didn’t even want to leave at first. Maybe he had lingered and waited for Thanatos, wanting to explain.

Maybe this wasn't as abrupt as Thanatos thought.

“Did he leave a message for me?" Thanatos asks before he can stop himself, and he winces at how desperate he sounds. “It’s Zagreus' third attempt, if the rumors are to be believed. Surely he had time to leave a note or…”

His voice trails off as Mother's golden eyes soften. She hovers closer before cupping Thanatos’ cheek; her hand curling around him in a comforting gesture. Mother has always been able to see right to the heart of her children. Doubtless, she senses his hurt and confusion, the way his heart feels like it's cleaved open. Mother's voice is slow and sympathetic as she delivers the killing blow.

“I’m sorry, my son. He hasn’t.”

\---

“Zagreus is getting stronger,” grumbles Megaera in the mess of the re-opened lounge. There's a kernel of admiration buried under her irritation. After seven attempts, the Prince has finally bested Meg in combat. While the resurrection pool in the Grand Hall heals most wounds, a damaged pride isn’t one of them. She digs at the claw mark under their table with the heel of her boot, annoyed. “Tch. I’ve never seen him work harder towards anything. He might make it to the surface after all."

"I’ll trust your judgement, Meg,” Thanatos says absently. His drink is a chthonic cocktail of whatever was salvaged from Cerberus’ outrage. It’s oddly layered; despite how long he swirls the glass, the layers don’t mix. Thanatos gives up, sighing. “You know him best.”

"I used to." There's a moment of silence as she downs her drink. Then she smirks at Thanatos from the rim of her glass, expression sickly sweet and mischievous. "But I'd wager you know him better now."

Thanatos shrugs and glances at the picture of Achilles on the lounge’s “Most Appreciated Employee” wall. Focuses on the craftsmanship of the portraiture as a familiar ache grips his heart. He would have agreed with Meg, once. But Zagreus had passed by the House seven times, had carved through Tartarus seven times, had spoken to and given nectar to every single godsforsaken soul he had stumbled upon and _still_ , he did not leave Thanatos a single message-

No. Thanatos had already gone through this. Clearly, what they _had_ meant nothing to Zagreus, and Thanatos wasn’t going to waste anymore time thinking about it.

“We were good friends,” Thanatos says distantly. “I guess.”

Meg scoffs. She presses her glass to Thanatos’, the _clink_ bringing his attention back to her. “That’s a party foul, Than. No lying in the lounge. It was clear to everyone that you two were more than friends.”

Thanatos’ eyelids flutter in irritation. “I suppose you’re half right. We were good friends with one night of... benefits.”

“Zag doesn’t _do_ one night,” Meg says dubiously.

“And no one leaves the Underworld. So it seems the Prince is determined to upheave all our expectations,” Thanatos snaps.

Meg's smirk falters. Out of all the Furies, Megaera is the only one allowed in the House. Unlike Alecto and Tisiphone, Meg is _civil_. Professional. She channels her wrath towards a goal instead of lashing out at whatever unfortunate soul is closest to her.

And she is not cruel.

"People change, Than,” Meg says soberly, her eyes softening in understanding.

Talking about it feels like reopening a scabbed wound, but Thanatos shoves the pain down. He stares past Meg, at the splintered wood and wallpaper just behind her ear, and takes a fortifying breath. “Yeah. People change.”

Thanatos’ drink is still more than half-full, but he no longer has a taste for it. What he really wants is to be alone and to deal with the way his chest suddenly feels like it’s collapsed in on itself. Mother taught him to never kill by inches, it’s kinder to unleash the hurt at once. But Zagreus…

Zagreus' loss hurts like a deep _burn_. His absence is a constant ache that flares at every brush of the memory of him. Had Thanatos really meant so little to him? Was this all a game? Did Zagreus spend ages courting him only to chase something new once he got what he wanted?

 _Stop wasting your time thinking about this_ , he tells himself. But there’s a desperate voice underneath it all. _Will you always be in this much_ hurt?

“I have to go, Meg,” Thanatos sighs. He quickly adds, “Work calls. I owe you a drink the next time we’re both free.”

His friend hums in acknowledgement and doesn’t say anything. Her expression speaks for her.

\---

Demeter keeps Thanatos busy. She typically does during this part of the year, but the recent discovery of a potential grandchild, hidden from her for years, incites her wrath.

The mortals do not see a respite from the winter, nor do they see their harvest come in. Greece is beset by famine, weakness, and eventually war over the remaining resources, and it is a very long time before Thanatos allows himself a moment to rest.

When he finally returns, the House is in disarray. Lord Hades is cursing up a storm, voice echoing throughout the Main Hall as he coordinates shades to Asphodel to clean up the mess left by his son. Mother listens with infinite patience as Lord Hades demands a method to resurrect and reinstall a Bone Hydra.

“-That wretched son of mine thinks nothing of the havoc he causes us in his ridiculous task. He’s ruined the structural foundation of a great number of chambers in Tartarus and Asphodel, and now he’s wreaking destruction in Elysium-”

 _Almost there_ , Thanatos thinks hollowly as he enters the West Wing. He’s impressed, despite it all. Zagreus hasn’t given up on his quest, and if he continues his progress, he _will_ carve a way through to the surface.

If he does, it’s unlikely they’ll ever see each other again. A god takes a long time to come close to death. Ages will pass before Thanatos is brought before an Olympian and he’s come to terms with knowing-

Achilles whistles. “Prince Zagreus has been looking for you.”

The words take a moment to register. “What?”

Achilles’ smile deepens. There's a glint in his eyes that speaks to knowing the type of pain Thanatos is in. _Was_ in.

“Prince Zagreus has been looking for you,” the warrior repeats.

On the Surface, people suffer under Demeter’s wrath and cry for Death’s release. Thanatos' aides are working hard, covering for him while he has a moment’s rest, but they _need_ him. Every moment he spends here is a moment they struggle on the Surface. Aside from work, he’s _exhausted_ and he can feel Lord Hades’ eyes on his back, summoning him back to the Main Hall, but-

_Zagerus has been looking for you._

“I hear the Prince is fighting his way through Elysium,” Achilles offers casually. “It’s unfortunate that The Underworld is an ever changing maze of chambers and passageways. Yet," Achilles cocks his head, the spark in his eyes brightening, "I doubt it would be an issue for someone with _your_ abilities.”

Even in the Underworld, Thanatos can sense Death happening. He typically tunes it out; the dead can’t die in the traditional sense. Any "accidents" lead to souls re-materializing in Tartarus where, after filling out the appropriate paperwork, they are returned home. Thanatos pushes back the calls from the Surface and hones in on Elysium.

It’s laughably easy to find the path of destruction Zagreus has left behind.

“Thank you, Achilles. For the message,” says Thanatos before willing himself to the chamber Zagreus is about to enter. The warrior’s wink is the last thing Thanatos sees before he blinks into the sunny fields of Elysium.

He’s greeted by a pleasant breeze and a vista of flowers and picturesque architecture. Thanatos always liked Elysium. Enjoyed the perpetual, idyllic spring, lush with vegetation and warm sunlight. It reminds him of warmer seasons on the Surface, and as with all things in Greece, Thanatos' presence changes it. Like a switch, the wind stills and the weather becomes overcast. Light in the chamber tints to grey-green and it becomes a touch chillier.

Thanatos has a second to wonder how Zagreus will react to the drop in temperature before an achingly familiar presence enters the chamber.

His throat tightens at the sight of black hair and beautiful red and green eyes. The Prince is bloody, bruised, and Thanatos can practically smell Zeus and Artemis' influence dripping off of him, but it's _him_.

Miraculously, Thanatos manages to stay in place as Zagreus runs to him. The Prince stops an arm's length away, breathing heavy, his gorgeous eyes studying Thanatos like a starving mortal before food. This close, Thanatos can hear the Prince’s heart, beating as rapidly as a hummingbird’s wings.

There are so many answers Thanatos wants to demand from him, but with the way Zagreus is looking at him, he can't recall a single thing. Thanatos squeezes his scythe to ground himself because _I missed you_ , is the only thought that comes to mind, and it’s as constant as the wind blowing across his skin. _I missed you, I missed you. I missed you so much._

“...Thought you could just get away from me, did you?” Thanatos jokes weakly. He gestures to the grassy fields, but his eyes never leave the Prince.

Zagreus opens his mouth, shuts it, and swallows. His unbloodied hand reaches out and he steps forward-

Then the ground quakes and the smell of burning grass fills the air as summoning seals flare around them.

Zagreus' expression twists, becomes guarded. “Thanatos," he sighs, dropping his arm. “I figured it was only a matter of time before Father sent you after me to do his dirty work.”

“Zagreus," Thanatos scoffs. "Is that _really_ why you think I’m here?” Thanatos frowns at the number of summoning seals manifesting around them. Ten, twenty, twenty-five - Thanatos eyes race around the chamber, taking stock of enemies. Even for a Prince, it seems excessive.

Zagreus turns, mouthing numbers as he counts as well. Thanatos scans him, takes in the fresh scars on his toned back, his torn chiton, the dried blood dotting his neck and thighs and wonders how he even made it this far. With the number of shades coming, it won’t be an easy fight.

Eventually, the Prince turns, eyes settling on Thanatos'. There’s desperation in the set of his shoulders, a question burning in his gaze.

_What will you do?_

Thanatos _should_ leave. Zagreus abandoned him, Thanatos’ work on the Surface calls, Lord Hades would be greatly displeased and-

In the end, all it takes is for Zagreus to groan as he unsheathes Stygius. The blade shakes, unsteady in Zagreus' bloodied arm and the sight twists his stomach because Thanatos wants to help him. Wants the Prince to not be _hurt_. He wants Zagreus back in the House, safe and happy, and he wants-

_Gods dammit, Zag._

Thanatos brings his scythe forward.

“Let’s see how many of these wretches you can kill," Thanatos relents. Something light and pleased dances across the Prince’s features, and Thanatos adds, annoyed, "...Before I send them to the lowest depths, where you belong, yourself.”

He catches Zagreus grin for a fleeting moment before the chaos begins.

It’s easy work for Death. The souls of Elysium don’t bother with him, focusing instead on the Prince; Zagreus is the one Lord Hades wants sent to the House. Thanatos does his best to telegraph his attacks and hone in on those aiming for Zagreus. He casts spells of doom, summons rings of magic to fill the chamber and kill all souls except the Prince.

And Zagreus, typical, undermines all his work. The god flashes across the chamber, slaying those about to fall from Thanatos’ spell, baiting enemies in the rings of death to chase him only to steal the kill. It’s a show of prowess, meant to impress.

And it works.

 _Idiot_ , Thanatos thinks, clenching his jaw. Yet he's hopelessly entranced as the Prince dances from enemy to enemy, lancing and slicing through shades. It makes fighting difficult and Thanatos _knows_ his casting is slowing, notices his own aim faltering. Wordlessly, Zagreus picks up the slack; a mass of muscle, magic, and power moving as if he were never hurt at all.

The last shade falls in a dramatic flash of thunder and green arrows. Zagreus turns to Thanatos, smirking. Stygius is strewn over his shoulders, his chest heaves from effort, and he looks so unfairly _good_.

It throws Thanatos back to their last night together. Of the heavy breathing and the soft victory in Zagreus' eyes when they fell into his bed. (Or of the press of Zagreus’ lips and the way his breathing would catch as Thanatos tasted the skin on his chest and-)

“You left,” Thanatos says suddenly, because if he doesn't say it now, he never will. Zagreus will charm him or make him laugh and Thanatos will tuck away his hurt to savor the moment. To enjoy Zagreus’ brilliance after so much time spent apart. He’s accepted he can’t be rational around the Prince.

“...without so much as telling me goodbye. I suppose you knew I’d catch up with you sooner or later, is that it? No escaping death, and all?”

Despite his posturing, the Prince is definitely hurt; he’s bleeding in various places and living off of adrenaline from each fight. Thanatos can’t stand the sight and he throws the Prince a centaur heart. Zagreus catches it, expression equal parts grateful and bewildered, and shuts his eyes as he swallows the gift. Color returns to the Prince’s face and the smaller cuts across his skin start to mend and fade.

 _Good,_ Thanatos thinks as his eyes trace new scars, _That’s better._

After a moment, Zagreus slowly opens his eyes. Meets Thanatos’ gaze with perfect steadiness. “I left when it was necessary, Than. I thought of you and hoped you’d understand. I have to do this.”

Thanatos narrows his eyes. How can Zagreus be so nonchalant about this? So _formal_?

_I understand that you have an Olympian mother. I understand that your first instinct upon discovering her is to abandon everything at a chance to live on the Surface. With her._

_I understand that you couldn’t be bothered to say **goodbye**._

_Was I not enough for you?_

Thanatos’ worst thoughts in the empty hours of Zagreus’ departure surge forward and he fights to keep his face still. He has enough self-awareness to know how painfully desperate those words sound. Instead, Thanatos pushes through the ache in his chest and steels his gaze. Because clearly this is _the end_. Zagreus is serious. He isn’t going to change his mind and _this_ is all the closure Thanatos will receive.

It didn't mean anything.

“That’s more motivation than I’ve ever heard from you,” Thanatos manages, and he can’t find the strength to wish the Prince well. Can’t carve the sincerity to wish him luck running away from the Underworld. _From him_. “...Well, if you won’t say it, I’ll say it. Goodbye, Zagreus.”

Thanatos summons his magic to take him to the Surface. The last thing he sees, before he blinks back to Greece, is Zagreus wincing at his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Hugs and endless thanks to Didi for her support and feedback <3
> 
> Feedback is super appreciated! Come say hi @ giosele.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

In hindsight, Thanatos should've known the Prince wouldn’t succeed. Half dead as he was, there was no possible way he could’ve left Elysium. The former King of Athens’ guarded the entrance to The Temple of Styx, and his penchant for the dramatic ensured he’d create a ridiculous challenge for Zagreus.

Like a two versus one deathmatch. In the Arena. Before every soul in Elysium.

It’s distasteful. Unfairness always left a bitter taste in Thanatos’ mouth; a side effect from shepherding so many souls to the Underworld during the prime of their lives. Despite his feelings for the Prince, Thanatos found no joy in hearing about Zagreus’ latest failure.

Judging by the whispers throughout the House, it’s a sentiment only shared by Mother, Achilles, and himself. 

Lord Hades' power is absolute. No soul escapes the Underworld without divine intervention and Zagreus' attempts are nothing but dramatic to the denizens of Hades' domain; a chance for louts and warriors to earn their Lord's favor; gossip for the shades milling around the House.

No one really expects Zagreus to succeed and Thanatos isn't sure if he does either. Still, he doesn’t enjoy the tales of Zagreus bleeding to death from a spike trap, or Zagreus being crushed under Asterius' hammer. Nor does he fail to recognize the Prince's attempts for what they are: desires to get away from them. From Lord Hades. From him _._

Thanatos wonders if his thinking makes him a bad son for not sharing his mother's vision or a petty ex-flame for rolling his eyes at Zagreus’ efforts.

Or maybe Thanatos is just a realist; a faithful servant to his Lord and the laws of his realm. No one escapes the Underworld.

Suddenly, Lord Hades’ laughter booms through the halls. It’s a harsh sound; all amusement at the expense of its recipient.

“Have you finally given up, boy? I quite enjoyed hearing of your defeat at the hands of King Theseus, as did the rest of the Underworld. But by all means, continue embarrassing yourself for our entertainment.”

“Never,” a familiar voice scoffs, before footsteps echo in the bare hallway of the West Wing.

Thanatos shifts on his perch, restless and unhappy. _Zagreus is still here_ , he thinks.

It’s odd; were things different, Zagreus would be dragging Thanatos to the lounge. Or Zagreus would show off a move he learned from Achilles or a trick he taught Cerberus. The Prince had a million stray observations and hobbies to share and Thanatos realizes, with aching awareness, that those moments are gone too.

From his balcony, Thanatos watches the Styx flow. He'll do this forever; silently watch the precious liquid carry his reaped souls to the resurrection pool in Hades' main hall. It was a fate he never minded, but one that Zagreus made better, and one that is changed without his presence.

 _A few months ago,_ Thanatos thinks with stinging, distant fondness, _Zagreus would've fished from the balcony just to spite his father._

He feels the itch of eyes on his back, then overhears Achilles’ muttering, his voice softer than usual. “Are you ready to go back, lad? The Bull of Minos is a mighty opponent and to have faced…”

Thanatos rolls his eyes. 

Death doesn’t get many opportunities to rest. Even now, his peace is interrupted by the call of duty, a siren song tempting him to pick up his scythe and return to the surface. Weak human voices call for him while he waits, and his legs are starting to ache from bracing his weight against the House's colored marble floors.

The last thing he wants is to hear one of Greece’s most prolific heroes give Zagreus a pep talk and, gods forbid, _advice_ , on how to escape the Underworld. Work is preferable and Thanatos grabs his scythe, wills his magic to take him to the surface and-

“Wait, Than,” Zagreus cries out.

Thanatos sighs. Irritation washes over him as he turns to see Zagreus crossing the distance between them, hand tight around something glimmering.

" _What do you want_?" Thanatos doesn't say, because Mother Nyx taught her children _grace_. Instead he crosses his arms and mutters the next best thing, "Go about your business, Zag." 

The implicit drips from the air: _We have nothing more to say to each other._

Undeterred, the Prince raises his hand. A bottle of nectar shines in flickering firelight. "Do you have a moment? I found this while ransacking Father's realm and figured we could put it to good use. We haven't had much of a chance to catch up since...well, since everything happened.”

"Since you tried to escape, you mean," Thanatos offers icily. He stares, lets the silence drag until the Prince shifts in the dim light. Thanatos narrows his eyes, “I don’t, Zag. Have a moment, that is.”

“Well, I'd still like for you to have this, Than. Maybe you can enjoy it between all your reaping on the surface? Seems like you’ve been working harder than usual lately."

Thanatos shrugs. “Gift it to one of your cousins or uncles, then. You’ve plenty of relatives aiding you on your mission.”

“I figured you deserve something for helping me - I got a lot farther than I would have, thanks to you.” The Prince steps forward, his features catching in the West Wing’s firelight. 

Zagreus is... surprisingly easy to look at.

Several weeks on the surface have passed since they last spoke in the trampled grounds of Elysium. Zagreus was bloodied, dismissive, a young god burning with determination to get to the surface. The image hurt, but it also helped Thanatos get over his own feelings - enabled him to weed out his pain as one would prune the dying branches of a plant.

Now Thanatos sees the playful Prince he grew up with. The Zagreus that bristled at his father's indifference and smiled at Thanatos with pretty, kind eyes. His breath catches at the sight of Zagreus standing between the colonnades of the West Wing, glowing in the light, and smiling like nothing’s wrong.

"You love nectar," Zagreus says fondly, and the corners of his eyes crinkle at a memory. "Remember how I'd find you during your breaks and we'd-"

"Everyone loves nectar, Zag." 

Yes, he remembers. How many days and nights did they spend laughing in the lounge while sharing a bottle? Or how many times did they sneak away to a peaceful corner of Elysium to drink their stress away? 

It's yet another hurt he thought he tucked away. They aren't lovers anymore; Thanatos realizes they aren't ready to be friends. Not when their memories still have a painful edge and Zagreus’ very presence makes him yearn for something that’s gone.

“Enough of this," sighs Thanatos. His grip on his scythe is nearly painful, and he takes a breath to steady himself. "We should not discuss my involvement in your schemes. What if Lord Hades saw us chatting like this, now? I risked everything by helping you out there, and still you failed."

The last words come out in a growl. No one challenges Death, especially with such acid in his tone, but Zagreus has dealt with his father’s temper his whole life. 

He never cowered from Thanatos’.

The Prince simply lowers his arm, his smile melting a little with the motion. “I'll just come out and say it, Than. I didn’t like how we ended things in Elysium, but I understand why you said what you did." He sighs. "There’s something I need to talk to you about, and...I should’ve brought up a long time ago."

"You should’ve,” Thanatos agrees bitterly. 

He needs to get away; Zagreus still looks stunning and Thanatos still hurts and this is all...maddening. Thanatos knows where they stand. He doesn’t need an apology from Zagreus for the sake of an apology - he drowned himself in work to get over _this_ and he’ll do it again. Thanatos shuts his eyes and imagines a grove outside Olympus, snow-dusted and quiet. A man lies on the ground, blood trailing down his head from when he slipped and bashed it against a rock. 

Handling that is easy. Predictable. Thanatos knows what to do and it's certainly less messy than dealing with the emotional quagmire Zagreus is dragging him into.

"Duty calls, Zag."

“Than, wait-”

Thanatos summons his magic to take him before he loses himself to misery.

\---

The giant mirror glows under the light of two dozen new torches. Thanatos isn’t sure if it’s the glass that’s making the West Wing look larger, or if it’s the lights, or if it’s the giant, chthonic rug sprawled across the floor.

“Welcome home, Thanatos. Prince Zagreus has been looking for you,” says Achilles.

Thanatos blinks. His reflection blinks back. “What?”

“Prince Zagreus has been looking for you,” Achilles repeats, seemingly undisturbed by how long Thanatos has been standing in front of him.

Thanatos can’t quite tear his eyes from the mirror, but he scoffs, “Right. Just as he was looking for me before. When you and I last had this conversation.”

The warrior frowns, clear displeasure settling in the lines of his face, but Thanatos speaks again before Achilles can open his mouth. “Zagreus and I are focusing on personal goals, Achilles. Clearly, he’s dedicated to breaking free from the realm. Meanwhile, I am dedicated to my role.”

“Truly? Because Prince Zagreus had stayed in the house for several weeks after your conversation - I would almost suspect he was waiting for you to return,” Achilles says softly. For a moment, the warrior’s gaze goes distant, as if visiting an old memory. Then Achilles blinks and he refocuses. 

“I don’t mean to overstep, but it’s clear to me that the lad is focused on your relationship. I believe he would’ve waited longer to see you return, but...you know how Prince Zagreus feels being cooped up in the House.” The warrior’s gaze flickers towards the Main Hall with a sad, knowing smile.

Unmoved, Thanatos shrugs and gestures to the changes around them, “Perhaps he was overseeing work orders. Excuse me, Achilles.”

Slowly, Thanatos takes in the splendor of the West Wing as he makes his way to his balcony. Laurels inlaid with skulls glow light blue overhead, harmonizing with vibrant azure drapes. Petals adorning the Main Hall sweep into the West Wing as shades move from hall to hall, remarking about the delightful increase in light in the house. 

Thanatos' soles brush across the new rug as he admires the changes.

 _Purple, blue, and gold_ , Thanatos notices, and he settles over the balcony to watch the Styx flow, brilliantly illuminated by the House's many bright, new lights.

(Long ago, he told Zagreus those were his favorite colors. Despite all the time that's passed, he can't help but hope, distantly, that Zagreus was thinking of him when he picked the rug.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extending this because the 3 chapter format didn't have enough pining & angst T.T
> 
> As always, much love to Didi <3  
> Feedback is always appreciated! Come say hi at giosele.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

Plants don’t survive in the Underworld. Not past Elysium, at least.

Queen Persephone, as was her right, had changed that. 

Hades’ Realm lost much when she left, but like the roots she coaxed into sterile, grey soil, her magic dug into the bones of the House and remained. Pomegranates trees still thrive in the House's barred gardens and any petals plucked in the Main Hall do not wither or brown. Other plants can grow here, provided the housekeepers are given the extensive resources to cultivate such projects.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” The lily glows bright in Mother Nyx’s palm. She cradles it, brings it face-level, and smiles like it’s something precious and sacred. “Such a kind gift from the Prince.”

Mother tucks the flower among its companions and beams as she surveys the half-dozen vases overflowing with vibrant blue lilies. Her contentment makes her magic shine, turns the air in the House crisp, like the comforting cold of a starless winter night. 

“They're lovely, Mother,” Thanatos agrees. Combined with Orpheus' performance echoing through the halls, this moment feels perfect. “I’m glad that Zagreus is finally putting his gemstones to good use. With all you’ve done for him, he’s certainly owed you a dedication. Thank you for showing this to me.”

She runs her hand over a thick bushel, pale fingers catching on individual petals. “Indeed,” she says. There’s an odd note in her tone. “May I have a word with you, my son?”

Work calls, but Thanatos always has time for her. He smiles, and is rewarded with a warm smile in return. “Of course, Mother.” 

She quickly glances towards the Main Hall, where Orpheus sings and Lord Hades decrees the final fate of a group of shades, and drops her voice. “How are you and Zagreus?”

“We’re fine,” Thanatos says evenly. It’s the truth. He’s steered clear of the Prince since their last conversation in the West Wing. He’s letting the dust settle. Waiting for the inevitable moment when he and Zag cross paths on the surface. Maybe they can be friends then. Maybe Zagreus can talk without confusing Thanatos. Maybe Thanatos can acknowledge Zagreus’ lack of boundaries without wanting to blow up.

His hurt is a deeply buried thing, something smothered under time and distance and work. He prefers to keep it that way. Mother observes him, expression serene, and Thanatos can’t shake the feeling that she sees right through him.

“We’re fine,” Thanatos repeats. He shifts in place, uneasy under the weight of Mother’s gaze. “Prince Zagreus made his decision. It’s clear what his priorities are and how he views our...relationship.”

“His behavior suggests otherwise,” Mother responds softly, and Thanatos suppresses a groan; she's using her ‘persuasive’ voice. The last time he heard it was when she convinced him to shift on his own - back when he was a child in need of a parent’s zealous encouragement. “Zagreus has been despondent of late. As have you. Your growing absence in the House has been noted, my son, and you’ve been missed.”

“Really? Has the House nothing better to do than gossip?” Thanatos sighs. He resists the urge to run a hand down his face. How embarrassing. It explains Achilles’ recent attempts to catch his eye and chat. Or Meg’s frequent invitations to grab a drink in the Lounge. Hypnos, too, has started floating to his balcony to tell stale jokes and keep silent company when the queue gets short.

Even now, Thanatos feels a dozen eyes on him. Scrutiny is a facet of godhood, and Thanatos is just realizing the attention extends to his personal life.

“I didn’t realize my feelings were so obvious,” Thanatos says, bitter.

"Only to those that care to notice," Mother offers kindly. She reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear, just as she had done when he was a child. “Talk to him, my son. It pains me to see both of you at odds.” She pauses, considering, then adds, “You’ve quarreled as children yet this rift feels different.”

"You're right. This is different. But we've already talked, Mother," mutters Thanatos, but he knows it’s a losing fight. There’s no arguing with Mother once she gets  _ sentimental _ .

"Zagreus has made a mistake,” she acknowledges. “Although not so much in the act of leaving as in the execution."

Thanatos frowns, surprised she's taken his side. "You're saying I should forgive him for what he’s done?"

"I am saying that you should listen to what he has to say. I cannot speak on his behalf, though I have an idea of what he wishes to say. Zagreus has talked to me about his feelings. At length." She presses forward, perceptive eyes catching the protest on the tip of his tongue. “Do it for your peace, my son. This rift hurts you both. If there is a chance to mend your pain, why not seize the opportunity?"

She pauses then, golden eyes appraising, and Thanatos can do little else but nod. It’s just like Mother to get the final word; she steers and persuades and commands to get her way. 

Were he someone else, he’d be resentful. But Thanatos is long past second-guessing her intentions. Even now, despite her firm words and towering height, she looks at him with a warmth that bellies the crisp chill of her magic. She’s his  _ mother _ \- of course she notices his trailing hurt, the ache that's followed Thanatos since he discovered Zagreus' departure. She just wants what's best for him.

Thanatos grips his scythe and summons his magic to track the wayward Prince. "Alright. I’ll hear him out,” he relents. 

Mother smiles, and he can't help but smile back. He feels like one of the glowing blue lilies in her collection; another small, lovely thing that holds her adoration. Her certainty anchors him, helps him quell the piece of himself dreading the interaction. Maybe this won't be so bad. 

“I trust you, Mother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, I'll stop adding chapters after this - 6 chapters and we're done bros.
> 
> Sorry for the supa short update. Ch. Three and Ch. Four were supposed be together, but I thought they worked better as separate chapters haha. Good news is that Chapter Four is already written! It'll be posted soon :)


	4. Chapter 4

Elysium reeks of burnt grass and blood. Chunks of colored marble are strewn across the chamber, their destruction mirrored in the hoplite traps’ bent spears and chipped statue heads. The room’s silence is a heavy, dark thing, so unlike the peaceful vibrancy of Elysium. Disturbed, Thanatos turns, catches movement in a far corner and teleports forward. 

Of course the Prince is outnumbered. Zagreus is a blur of red - red blood, red robes, and Ares’ signature red doom.

Varatha blurs forward and cleaves the lingering soul of an Exalted Brightsword. Zagreus makes a satisfied sound and blinks to the side, slicing through another soul seconds from reanimating. The Prince catches Thanatos’ shadow and glances up just as a flame wheel darts around the corner.

“Than-”

“Zag, behind you!”

On instinct, Zagreus throws Varatha, but he misses, cries out over a _boom_ that echoes throughout the chamber. 

Thanatos swears and summons his power to cover the room in vibrant violet magic - it's ostentatious, a gesture he loathes making, but all Thanatos can think of is Zagreus' scream as the explosion landed.

There’s a moment of silence, then the chamber is washed in blinding light. Thanatos feels his magic work, feels the souls of the remaining enemies slipping into the Styx below. It’s satisfying. Even after all this time, it’s satisfying. He’d never admit it, but the power to cull life on this scale feels deliciously indulgent.

A second later, Thanatos releases his magic and Elysium returns to view. 

"...Right on time," chokes the Prince, before he sways and bends over. Zagreus' face is scrunched in pain, his pale fingers scrambling over a fresh, bite-sized wound on his left calf.

Thanatos floats to the ground, horrified. "Zagreus, your leg…"

"Than," Zagreus groans, stumbles forward and wraps a shaky hand around Thanatos' forearm. The Prince doesn't mean to, but he pulls; uses Thanatos to hold himself steady. Blood trails from a thumb sized gash on Zagreus's temple, as vibrant as the red eye it catches in.

"Zagreus," Thanatos whispers. The damage is...extensive. It flips his gut, makes his chest tighten with shock and worry as he takes in bruises, slices, stabs. His free hand wraps around the Prince's shoulder to steady him further. "Zag, you should sit down."

The Prince grimaces, impatient, "Wait. Than, I need to talk to you.”

“Zag, you’re-”

Zagreus leans in, tightens his grip. “I'm sorry I never told you I was leaving. You shouldn’t have found out the way you did, but I couldn’t have you stopping me."

Thanatos shoots him an incredulous look. “Seriously, Zagreus?”

He stops himself from shaking the stupid, hurt god in his arms. Gods, it's just like Zag to bring this up _now_. Just as bad is the Prince’s wording. Of course Zagreus is sorry because Thanatos would have 'stopped him.’ Yet he's not sorry for leaving, or for never reaching out, or putting himself in danger, or ending their relationship like-

_Gods dammit, Zag._

"This isn’t much of an apology, Zag. Nothing stops you. Clearly.” Resentment surfaces like blood from a reopened wound, and Than does little to hide the bitterness in his voice. “Not that I would have raised my sword against you. I can barely watch you fight."

"You would have stopped me," Zagreus insists. He's pale, torn chiton barely clinging onto slumping shoulders, and still his fingers dig into Thanatos’ arm, like he’s scared Thanatos will blink away if he’s not careful. 

“Let this be another thing we disagree on, Zag.”

Thanatos gestures towards an altar, but the stubborn Prince shakes his head; stands his ground. Instead, Zagreus leans closer, eyes softening as he moves into Thanatos' space. "You don’t understand, Than. You could've stopped me. I wouldn't have been able to say no to you."

Thanatos’ breath catches. Gods, it's just like Zagreus to say such things. To use words that make his face burn and his skin shiver. Heart racing, Thanatos swallows down a curse and pulls the foolish Prince towards an altar. Zagreus stumbles forward, weak, and snorts, “Sorry. That was too much, wasn’t it?”

"What exactly am I supposed to say to that, Zag?"

"Truth be told, this wasn’t how I wanted this conversation to go,” Zagreus admits. After a few steps, the Prince's legs crumple with a yelp, and Thanatos quickly steadies him. Carefully, Thanatos wraps an arm around the Prince’s waist; takes his weight.

"Isn't it?" Thanatos mutters bitterly. "You've always been the impulsive type. Look at the state of you, you idiot. Come."

“Yeah, well, I kinda had this whole speech planned, Than," Zagreus mumbles. Zag leans into him, pressing his head against Thanatos' shoulder. He’s a line of heat down his side, and Thanatos hates himself for _enjoying_ it. For enjoying his heat, and pressure, and the way Zagreus' breath tickles his shoulder. The last time they were this close…

"You see, I’d apologize for leaving the way I did. You’d agree I behaved like an idiot. Then I’d explain that I was always going to come back to you and you’d accept my apology and bumbling attempts to make things right.”

Zagreus groans as they settle him against an altar. He shifts his weight onto his palms, off his hurt leg, and when he brings a hand up, there’s a bottle of golden liquid in his hand.

"Really?" Thanatos scoffs. He gestures to the ruined chamber. To the trail of blood behind them. Then makes a sweeping gesture over Zagreus' body. "Come now, Zag...Is this really the time?”

“You’ve been quite hard to get a hold of, Than. I figured I need to take advantage of every second I have with you. Good thing this whole 'fighting my way to the surface' business has taught me how to multitask."

Only a prince could play at confidence while bleeding to death, Thanatos thinks. Pale lips tip up, grinning, and if Thanatos hadn’t grown up with Zagreus, he could almost believe the façade. Yet despite his posturing, Thanatos catches Zagreus’ clenched jaw, his struggle to keep the nectar elevated without shaking.

"This multi-tasking is getting you killed,” Thanatos snaps. In one smooth motion, he steps closer and cups Zagreus' face. Raises it up and smirks at the sound of Zagreus’ breath catching. Magic tells him that Zagreus doesn't have much time. The Prince will probably fall into the Styx while crawling to the next chamber. “You'll die soon, Zag. I doubt you'd make it to the Champion in this state."

"Yeah," Zagreus agrees nonchalantly, eyelashes fluttering as he presses into Thanatos' hand.

"Gods, Zag…" He wipes blood off of Zag’s cooling skin. He can feel Zagreus' life slowly unspooling, as steady as the blood trickling down his temple. A chilly breeze blows through the chamber, rustling clothes and displacing dust from Zagreus’ flyaway hair. Thanatos’ fingers itch to brush the dirt off his bangs, off his skin; stop the ground-up marble from falling into a cut. The horror of it all makes it easier to focus on priorities. To ignore his heartbeat ringing in his ears and the way Zagreus' words left something hot in his chest.

 _I'd never say no to you...I was always going to come back to you_.

"...Than," Zagreus mumbles, quieter than before. His arm shakes from the effort of raising the nectar higher. 

"Stubborn Prince,” Thanatos sighs. “Half dead and yet....Fine. I'll take it, but this doesn't mean we're okay." Thanatos steps back and steels his heart against Zagreus' crestfallen expression. This was supposed to be a conversation. Despite his concern and his feelings for the Prince, he can't shrug off Zag's past actions.

"And I won't accept this gift. Here."

Thanatos takes the nectar and waves a hand over the ground. A trampled butterfly stirs. As if pulled by a string, it floats up and settles gently in his palm. Thanatos brings his magic forward and channels a charm of strength and caution. The insect swells, the blood across its broken wings vanishing as it glows bright violet and slowly dulls, cooling into a crystalline ornament framed with polished silver. It’s beautiful, possessing the grace and craftsmanship of a Chthonic god. And the power of one too.

Hopefully, it will encourage the Prince to avoid getting hurt.

Zagreus hasn’t taken his eyes off of him.

"It's hard to focus when you stare at me like that," Than tells him, only slightly admonishing. It still feels good when Zagreus looks at him like that. Like Thanatos is the only thing in the room that matters. "Here."

The Prince clasps a shaky hand over Thanatos’. “You didn't have to, you know? That nectar was a gift, Than. I wasn’t expecting one in return.”

“I did. Have to, that is. We’re even now, Zag. Best if you don’t mention any of this." Thanatos presses the keepsake into Zagreus’ weak grip and pulls his hand away. The loss of Zagreus' heat feels _wrong_ , but he shrugs it off. 

He forces himself to look elsewhere too, when Zagreus gazes down at the butterfly with naked amazement. His wonder is so at odds with how hurt he is; it's painful to look at him for too long. 

The Prince is dying, fast, and Thanatos aches to guide him gently into the Styx. It would probably ease Zagreus pain to spend his last moment chatting until his eyes slowly flutter shut and he drifts away. 

It would make him happy.

But those kindnesses feel strangely intimate. Something belonging to a time before Zagreus left and changed everything.

So Thanatos crosses his arms and watches the chamber repair itself. Fresh grass quickly grows over burnt ground and broken columns glow as they rise. _Like plants_ , Thanatos thinks. Still, it’s not quite Elysium; the air is chilly, and the sun doesn't quite break through the clouds. Even in the Underworld, the weather bows to Nyx's children.

“Mother said you had some words for me," Thanatos says after a quiet moment. "Did your confession cover the gist of your conversation? If so, I shall return to my duties.”

“No,” Zagreus groans. He blinks deliberately, fighting to keep half-lidded eyes open. "I'd like to talk more, Than, if that's okay. Like I said, I had this whole speech planned. When will...when are you coming back to the House?" 

Thanatos throws Zagreus a disbelieving look. "When are you?"

“Right,” Zagreus snorts. “Well. I think it’s safe to say that I’ll be at the House soon, though I figure you have a better sense of what 'soon’ looks like. You can see it, can’t you, Than? How much time I have left.”

Thanatos nods; he remembers how warm Zagreus’ skin felt under his fingers. The glassiness of his eyes. “I can.”

“I'll be blunt: I want to make things right. What we have is…” Zagreus makes a weak gesture, not one that Thanatos can understand. "This is the most we've talked in quite some time, you know? I didn't think it was going to take me this long, but, well...I have to do this." The corners of his mouth tip up.

"We both knew I was never Nyx's son."

"We did," Thanatos agrees quietly. "Obviously."

It's easier now, saying goodbye to Zagreus. The ache is still there, as present as his concern for this foolish, hurt god, but this departure feels less painful. Knowing they’ll see each other soon is a comfort, as is knowing Zagreus’ pain will end.

Quietly, Thanatos commands the wind to blow in. It does, strong and warm, and swirls around Zagreus like a cocoon. It’s supposed to be comforting, something that Zagreus had loved when they were together. But now, the Prince shivers and curls his hands around the edge of the altar to steady himself.

_Oh, Zag..._

"You do realize there were other routes,” Thanatos says before he can stop himself, because he hates seeing Zag like this. “I could've helped you. We should have discussed this together. I'll never understand why you did what you did." The unspoken sits in the air. _I don't think I can ever forgive you for it, either_. 

Zagreus shuts his eyes, maybe from shame or weakness or both. Regardless, this is a conversation for later. 

Thanatos summons his magic to take him back to the house. Before he vanishes, he lets his gaze wander over the Prince. Thanatos frowns, chest tightening a bit more at Zagreus’ torn clothing, his various cuts, and yellowing bruises. Gods. This is so wrong. He should stay and wait. He might as well carry Zagreus into the Styx himself. It's _wrong_ to leave him alone like this. He should-

 _Boundaries_ , he tells himself, even as his heart breaks a little.

"I'll be in the House. Take care of yourself, Zag."

Zagreus doesn’t open his eyes. "Yeah. I will, Than." He sounds so weak. "See you soon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if Thanatos ever felt guilty for leaving after Zagreus gets totally rekt. Especially from their early competitions. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Things will get better soon <3  
> Feedback is much appreciated :) Come say hi @ giosele.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

Death blinks into the West Wing with his guilt clutched tight to his chest. Distantly, he registers stepping onto the sprawling Chthonic rug. His legs march in autopilot to his balcony, a knot growing in his throat as Zagreus’ many upgrades edge into view. The grand sundial, the purple rug under his feet, chthonic glowing skulls attached to innumerable hanging laurels - they tease him with their vibrancy and craftsmanship, their colors, their softness under the soles of his feet. 

Zagreus paid for all of this with his blood.

Thanatos knows this. How else could the Prince come back and arrange these contracts? Still, it’s one thing to know that Zagreus fails to breach the surface, and another to watch him bleed to death, to feel Zagreus’ life fading under his fingers. The vision haunts Thanatos, and he sulks, picturing Zagreus dying a million different ways, always alone or surrounded by the cruel shades that delivered the killing blow.

 _Reckless Prince. Hurry up and return_ , Thanatos thinks. He braces his weight against the marble balustrade, glaring down at the flowing ichor of the Styx. The House is too quiet, its halls too tall and empty without Orpheus’ singing. Restless, Thanatos’ thoughts ricochet between pleas to the Fates and curses against the idiotic god he prays for.

Gods, does Zagreus plan to decorate the entire palace with his efforts?

Moments later, the heavy silence is broken by rushing ichor. Zagreus’ coughing echoes through the halls, in concert with quick footsteps that come closer, louder.

“Oh, hey there Prince," chimes Hypnos a second later. "Says you died- oh, I guess you’re not interested- see ya later!”

“Hey,” Zagreus calls from the edge of the hall. Thanatos steels his expression. He fights the surge of relief flooding over him and the words that threaten to spill past his lips. _Thank the gods. You idiot. I’m so happy that you’re okay._

“Sorry, Than. That took longer than I thought. I hope you weren’t waiting too long?”

Graceful, Thanatos pushes off the bannister and thinks of how much better Zagreus sounds when his voice isn’t crackling with exhaustion.

“No. This was faster than I expected,” Thanatos says casually. He turns, can’t help but smile at the sight of Zagreus healthy and whole, shaking blood off his arms and onto the rug as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

“You look good, Zag. I doubt my opinion factors into your decisions, but for the record, I prefer you this way.”

Thanatos has forgotten how much fun it is to make Zagreus flush. The Prince’s face colors delightfully, and Thanatos watches Zagreus’ eyes widen before he clears his throat and catches himself. 

“I suppose I have your sisters to thank for that, Than. Seems the Fates wanted to spare me from a slow death this time. I’m happy to see you too, by the way. I...It’s nice that we’re talking again.”

Zagreus grins, unabashedly content despite the color in his cheeks, and Thanatos has to look away to keep from grinning back.

“Shall we finish our earlier conversation? Elsewhere, perhaps?”

“We can go to the training grounds. It’s just Skelly over there, and I doubt he can hear us by the outlook.”

Thanatos holds out his hand. “Alright. Come.” 

Zagreus is already turning towards the main hall when he catches the gesture. “Really, Than? I can just, I mean, if you're sure-”

“It's faster,” assures Thanatos. He fights the smile tugging at his lips as Zagreus stumbles forward, the new lights of West Wing illuminating his joy. The Prince looks so good up close; all bright eyes, clean robes, and unmarked skin. His hand is warm too, as smooth as Thanatos remembers and rightfully free of cuts and calluses and dried blood. 

_If only you would stay this way_ , Thanatos wishes.

It's the work of a thought to imagine the training grounds outside Zagreus' bedroom, another to blink them forward in a flash of green light. He feels nothing, then the House vanishes to the magnificence of Tartarus’ endless cavern. Crystal stalactites larger than palaces peek from the darkness above, catching light from an endless sea of firelight and shining like stars above them. In the distance, buildings erupt to house the endless stream of new souls entering the Underworld.

Zagreus squeezes his hand. "Don't think I can ever get used to the way you blink."

"Most don't," Thanatos tells him, smiling back.

Zagreus has a warrior's grace, and he quickly shakes it off, laughing and pulling them towards the edge of the training grounds. Thanatos lets him, enchanted by Zagreus’ contentment and the heat of his touch, the mystical beauty of the Underworld around them.

A voice grabs his attention.

"Howdy, boy-o," greets Skelly. The Bloodless' gaze flickers to their hands and Thanatos pulls away, recalling the House’s irritating interest in his relationship with Zagreus. More fuel for rumors was the last thing he needed. He and Zagreus were still nothing, or maybe they were climbing out of the limbo between fine and not-fine. Thanatos hasn't decided, and he’d prefer to keep any loose lips shut until he does.

The Bloodless pivots, suddenly fascinated by the gate to Tartarus. "Don't worry sir, I didn't see nothing," mumbles Skelly. "Just mindin' my own business over here. Real nice architecture they got."

"There was nothing to see," Thanatos corrects. Arms crossed, he pushes forward and passes the Prince. "Come, Zag. Let us finish our conversation. Quickly."

Zagreus sighs, falling into step. "Right. You know, I thought we were doing pretty well there. In fact, I’d say we hit a record. Most pleasant conversation we’ve had in the past...well, you know.”

Thanatos shrugs off the Prince’s levity, staying silent as he marches to the tip of the overlook. The warmth from their earlier moment is gone, but he still feels Zagreus’ eyes digging into his back.

Thanatos walks forward until his toes dangle above the infinite expanse of Tartarus. The slightest imbalance would tip him over the edge, plummeting into the never-ending chambers of the Underworld. There’s nothing in the universe like _this_ and he’ll never understand why Zagreus tries so hard to leave it.

"I don't know what to do with you, Zag. Let’s hear this speech of yours.”

“Right. Well. I suppose I should start from the beginning. You know, I’ve only ever had Nyx to look up to when I was growing up. Um, do you remember all those times Father said I’d get to-”

Thanatos can’t help it. He kicks a stray pebble over the ledge and sighs, “Is this an apology speech? Sounds to me like you’re monologuing your life story. You recall that I was there for most of it?”

“It is a speech. Though it won’t be much of one if my audience insists on interrupting me," says Zagreus with a glint of wild humor in his eyes.

“Don’t blame your audience, Prince. I recall your speeches being a lot more eloquent. More condensed as well. Perhaps all this fighting has affected your competency.”

Zagreus elbows him, light enough not to hurt, and Thanatos catches the way Zagreus steps into his space, doesn’t move his arm from where it’s pressed against Than’s own. 

“Maybe your title is affecting your propriety, Death. _Ahem_. I am your Prince. Isn’t there some rule saying you’re obligated to listen to all my monologues, no matter how boring they are?”

The Prince laughs, and Thanatos grins along with him. He’s always been too charismatic for his own good. Even now, his skin is a press of heat against Thanatos’ arm, and it’s addicting, something Thanatos wishes he could melt into. Between Zagreus and the beauty of Tartarus, he can almost pretend the past few months hadn't happened.

“Why did you ruin this, Zag?”

Zagreus’ smile falters, but his eyes meet Thanatos’ with such soft sincerity. “Because I was an idiot. I thought I would be strong enough to reach the surface after a few tries. I knew you would try to stop me, and I thought, maybe, it would be better if this was one of those things I’d casually mention in the Lounge. ‘Oh, hey, Than. I breached the surface while you were away. The sun was beautiful, but not as beautiful as you, ha ha.’" 

Zagreus shrugs, wincing at his words.

"Clearly none of that happened and all I’ve done is drag everyone into my mess. Cerberus ruined the Lounge, more of my relatives got involved, your brother’s helping me, Skelly’s here, and…” Zagreus pauses to take a breath. “...and I hurt you, Than. I’m so sorry.”

Thanatos doesn’t say anything. He simply stares into the space below. He's been waiting for this moment, yet the words simply wash over him. He still feels hollow, as empty as the air beneath him.

After a quiet moment, the Prince’s hand wraps around his forearm. Light, so light, that Thanatos could pull away easily.

“It’s been really hard not talking to you. I’ve been wanting to explain that I didn’t leave because of something you did, or because something between us changed.”

“You could have left a note.”

“Oh? Something like: ‘Dear, Than. I’m still in love with you. I promise I’ll be right back’?”

Thanatos’ breath catches. His eyes snap to Zagreus’, searching for a flash of humor, but all he sees that same soft, earnest expression. “You’re in love with me?”

Only Zagreus could admit such a thing like it was nothing; as if a confession of love was something he could slap onto a note. Thanatos wonders if Zagreus knows how remarkable he is. Wonders if he knows how many souls struggle with declaring their feelings even in their final moments.

The Prince’s expression shifts, and Thanatos knows the gears are turning in his head. He recognizes a moment too late that Zagreus mistakes his quiet awe for dismay. 

The Prince shrugs, unashamed. Then he shoots Thanatos a warm grin, and Thanatos can hear the wink in his tone. “Come now, Than. Just as friends.”

“Sure,” Thanatos mutters, unconvinced. “Did you mean what you said in Elysium?”

The hand on Thanatos’ arm trails up. “About coming back to you? Of course I did. I'm sorry I never made that clear, I guess I could've left a note for that? I mean, I figured I could always fight my way back down. Can't be too hard, right?"

“No- wait, what?" Thanatos shakes off that reasoning with a scoff. It'll be a conversation for another time. "I meant, did you mean what you said about not being able to say no to me?...You seemed so sure after that first time.”

Zagreus’ hand pauses just below his elbow, and his expression turns thoughtful. “Because I was serious about escaping. I knew Nyx wasn't my mother, but I didn't know my real mother was an Olympian. It hit me that half my identity has been kept secret for my entire life. My birth mother's up there, and all my uncles, and aunts, and cousins. I have a whole life on Olympus and I won’t let father keep me away from them.”

Thanatos frowns. “Are we not enough for you, Zag?”

“No! That’s not it. This…” Zagreus sighs, shuts his eyes, and for a moment he looks lost. Thanatos wonders if this is what Zagreus would look like if he told him to stay. Still, the idea is tempting. Nice knowing that Zagreus would never be hurt again, that Thanatos can keep this beautiful, impulsive god all to himself. 

Then he thinks about Zagreus looking lost for the rest of their lives, and the words turn to ash on his tongue.

“This situation hasn’t been easy for me either, Zagreus. I can’t believe you... _left_. I can’t believe you thought that would be okay." Thanatos takes a fortifying breath, steeling himself against the surge of emotion in his chest. “But I can’t keep doing this. Not talking to you, that is.”

The hand on his arm goes tight, five points of heat against his skin, and Thanatos realizes that the Prince has been holding his breath.

"I need time. But I’d like to be friends.”

“Friends,” Zagreus says hollowly. He makes the word sound like a victory and a loss. “Right. Friends. I understand…and thank you, I figure it’s more than I deserve."

Zagreus smiles then, sad, sweet, and so obviously heart-broken that Thanatos has to pull away to keep from consoling him. Still, he's beautiful under the lights of Tartarus, and Thanatos lets his eyes linger longer than he should.

“Good,” Thanatos says after a moment. He takes a deliberate step back and clears his throat. “Now that that’s settled, I suppose we should get back to work. Business calls and all. Just try not to get killed out there. I don’t like seeing you in that state.”

“I’ll try," Zagreus promises quietly. The Prince sighs and stumbles back as well, away from Thanatos, and towards his infernal arms and the gates to Tartarus. The bitterness in his voice is palpable. "I suppose ‘Friends’ is better than, well, whatever we were before. I am glad we talked about this."

"Likewise,” Thanatos spares his friend a sympathetic smile before giving in to the pull of magic leading him to the surface. He shuts his eyes and pictures an old woman, bundled in blankets and clutching to life.

“Let’s talk soon, Zag.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing keeps growing - I've given up on chapter limits & I'm sorry to everyone that thought this would be 3 chapters long T.T
> 
> Many thanks to Wendy for looking over this monster!  
> Thank you so much for reading! Come say hi @ giosele.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

Groaning, Zagreus wraps a shaky hand around the arrow in his gut and pulls.

“Damn Strongbows,” he whines. “'S'alright. Think it's just a surface wound."

“You promised me you’d be careful," says Thanatos, totally unconvinced.

Zagreus throws the arrow to the ground and doubles over, coughing blood onto trampled grass. He doesn't look up as he raises a hand. He’s probably expecting a centaur heart.

Thanatos ignores Zagreus' palm with a sigh. He reaches down and combs through the Prince's sweat-damp hair until his fingers wrap around a familiar keepsake.

"Does this even do anything?" Thanatos scrutinizes the butterfly's dull lustre. "Gods, did you even try? I gave you this so you would be careful."

"Thanatos, please…."

"A centaur heart won't save you, Zag.”

The Prince makes a sound between a laugh and a wheeze. "So you’re giving up on me?"

Thanatos snorts, but his hand in Zagreus’ hair turns gentle. Zagreus is so small beneath him, like the priests and mortals that bow their heads and beg for his favor. _Lord Thanatos, bless my ailing father with a peaceful death. Lord Thanatos, my son’s legion has fallen in battle. I pray he met a quick and painless end._

How easy to imagine Zagreus stumbling into the next chamber, falling to his knees as he's overrun by Exalted Longspears. If Zagreus is lucky, they would break his neck. But the Prince is stubborn. He’d drag out the fight; dodge fatal blows and cling to life as he bleeds to death. He’d be in pain.

"Why prolong the inevitable?" Than asks softly. "Not like you'll make it to the Champion this time, Zagreus. At least if I'm here, you won't be alone. I can make it quick."

For a long moment, Zagreus coughs and gasps for breath. Thanatos waits, caressing his head and floating onto the cold ground. Face-to-face, it'll be easier to stare down the stubborn Prince. Thanatos opens his mouth to repeat himself, then suddenly Zagreus looks up, his eyes wide and amused.

"You?"

"Yes. Me. We're friends, aren't we? Friends do this," insists Thanatos.

Zagreus looks too smug for someone bleeding to death. “Do you really think friends kill each other? You must think I have a lot of friends in the Underworld. Either that, or you’re part of their ploy to keep me stuck here.”

Thanatos rolls his eyes. "Ugh. Listen, do you want my help or not?"

Zagreus presses into his hand. He's like Cerberus pushing into a rub, and just as adoring. "Will it hurt?"

"Of course not." _I won't let it hurt,_ stays unsaid. Thanatos runs the backs of his fingers down Zagreus' cheek. It's an old habit, and if it's too intimate, neither of them says anything. "It will feel like going to sleep.”

“Well, since you're twisting my arm, I suppose I could go for a nap. I think I’ve been working pretty hard on this run," he grins.

“I said it will _feel_ like going to sleep, you fool," Thanatos tells him, but there's no bite in his words, and Zagreus knows it. The Prince's grin widens, and it holds for a single heart-stopping moment before Zagreus devolves into a coughing fit.

"See you at home," says Thanatos softly.

His magic surges forward, and Zagreus suddenly falls forward, boneless in Thanatos’ arms. Below them, the grass grows wet as the Styx rises to meet them.

“Be more careful next time,” he whispers against Zagreus' temple. 

The Prince doesn’t answer. The ground sinks to meet the Styx and Thanatos holds him for a moment longer, wondering if it’s worth Lord Hades’ wrath to carry Zagreus home himself.

He tells himself it’s faster this way. More convenient. More natural. Less political. Millions of reasons spring forward as the stench of blood grows overwhelming, and Thanatos tells himself to let go. He’s the one that wanted friendship, and friends don’t behave this way. Friends don’t defy their masters and inconvenience themselves when an alternative solution is so readily available.

Carefully, he lays Zagreus’ lifeless body against the rising blood and watches as the Underworld takes him home.

  
  


\---

  
  


Thanatos should learn to quit while he’s ahead.

His first mistake is finding more excuses to see the Prince. His second is underestimating him.

After the handful of times he’s seen Zagreus struggling in Elysium, Thanatos assumes Zagreus stays overwhelmed and wounded throughout his journey.

Thanatos doesn’t expect Zagreus to be a terror in Asphodel. He doesn't expect the Heart-Seeker to take to its new host or for the light from Asphodel's fires to tint his skin so beautifully. He expects Zagreus to preen and show off, to overexert himself and walk out of the fight worse for wear. Thanatos expects a farce, and at best, a show similar to that first, terrible confrontation many months ago.

He doesn’t expect a god.

Zagreus is the aspect of thunder and wine. A ridiculous combination, but it works for him. Though Thanatos is starting to suspect that Prince Zagreus would make anything work for him. His gaze trails Zagreus, the toned arms working Coronacht’s taut bowstring and the grin that graces the Prince’s features when his arrow hits its mark.

Zagreus catches Than’s eye and winks before lobbing a festive fog. “Giving up already, Than?”

Flushing, Thanatos turns his attention on the last group of enemies. A lazy flick of his scythe summons a ring of light. 

"You're dead."

Bright violet magic envelops the crowd of Bloodless and Wavemakers, and Zagreus takes to it like a beacon, enveloping the battlefield in clouds of Dionysus’ curse with each blink. A hail of arrows and lightning turns their enemies to dust before Thanatos’ spell is cast.

“Get your own kills,” grumbles Thanatos.

He’s unsurprised when the Prince blinks into his space moments later. “Think I beat you,” Zagreus laughs, breathless and beautiful.

It still pulls the ground from under him. Or it would, if Than wasn’t floating. 

“Don’t get used to it, Zag. This match was a fluke,” he says, holding out a centaur heart. He scoffs when Zagreus mirrors him with a bottle of nectar. “Been stealing from the Exalted? I don’t know how you find so many of these.”

“For your information, I’m not _stealing_ anything, I happen to stumble upon plenty of nectar in Tartarus. I think father intentionally leaves them lying around the realm,” says Zagreus.

“Don’t let Meg catch you saying that. Her duties involve stemming...obscene contraband.”

“‘ _Obscene contraband_ ’? Gods, not you too. I thought we were over this ridiculous phrasing. Regardless, I recall you very much enjoying the obscene not too long ago.”

The connotation makes Thanatos breath catch. It shouldn’t. Judging by Zageus’ cordial grin, the Prince hadn’t meant it like that. Thanatos bites his cheek, ashamed, and tempers his voice. “The terminology is from your Lord Father’s bylaws, Prince Zagreus.”

“Oh, I know. Father recites the bylaws ten times a week, and he’s particularly fond of the ‘no soul shall escape the realm’ and ‘no soul shall intentionally vandalize the Underworld’. I think father believes if he recites them enough times, I might snap and turn into the gracious son he’s always wanted. But,” Zagreus shrugs, casual, and his next words pierce Thanatos’ chest, “I’m starting to think the rules don’t apply to me."

“Rules never apply to you, no,” Thanatos agrees.

Firelight dances in Zagreus’ black hair. Sweat sheens his skin and he’s grinning up at Thanatos like he knows he can take on the Underworld and come out on top. 

He looks like a dream. 

“See you later, Zag.”

“What? You’re leaving already? But I thought- Well, I thought we were having fun. Did I do something wrong?”

“No," says Thanatos, ignoring the spike of pleasure at Zagreus’ voice cracking. 

Thanatos needs to leave for himself. He needs to leave because of his inability to recognize his own boundaries; his refusal to acknowledge that this nagging, obvious thing dwelling in his heart never went away despite how badly the Prince had hurt him. He never got over Zagreus, and now that they’re like this, maybe he never will.

A warm hand wraps around Thanatos’ forearm. “Than, is everything alright? Did I say something to upset you?”

Thanatos tries for a smile. "Work calls, that’s all. I’ll have to cut our little meeting short.”

"Oh. Sure,” says Zagreus, though it’s clear from the knit in his brow that he’s not convinced. “You know you can talk to me if something’s on your mind. Friends talk, and that’s what we are now, right?”

The Prince is so earnest and well-meaning. He says that word like it’s magic, like breathing it to life makes their relationship that simple.

“Friends,” Thanatos repeats hollowly. “How can you make everything sound so easy, Zagreus?"

Zagreus goes wide-eyed, and Thanatos realizes he’s being unfair.

“I’m sorry,” he says. The back of his hand caresses Zagreus’ cheek, like he did in Elysium. Yet again, the old habit feels comforting for all the wrong reasons. “We’re fine, but I almost wish we never...no, nevermind. I just get frustrated sometimes, Zag. Things seemed simpler before we had to deal with...everything.”

“You can come out and say it, you know. Let’s keep each other honest, if nothing else: things were simple before I ruined what we had.” His breath tickles Thanatos’ knuckles, and Thanatos keeps his hand there. Between the glow from Asphodel’s lava and the focus in his gaze, Zagreus is a heart-stopper.

Thanatos stifles the desire to pull Zagreus in, and merely hums in agreement. They’re friends, or as close to friends as they can be, and that's good enough. 

It needs to be. 

Thanatos is above damning and ignoring the Prince, but he’s not yet ready to forgive him.

\---

Thanatos continues seeing him. He finds excuses in the quiet moments between work and makes detours anytime he travels between home and the surface. 

They grow more bold with their touches. Caresses turn into lingering, playful things. Words too, become suggestive and layered with heat. And always, always, always everything is at Thanatos’ direction. Zagreus waits, sweetly accepting whatever parts of himself Thanatos wants to give, and Thanatos senses they’re careening to the edge of something greater, right at the cusp of what they used to be. 

Everyone notices.

When Lord Hades finally summons him to the Great Hall, Thanatos’ only surprise is that the conversation took this long to happen.

“The laws of the Underworld and my will are clear. My son blatantly disrespects the natural order of this realm and continues to leave destruction in his wake. Yet I discover that you’ve been aiding him behind my back this entire time?” Lord Hades fists his hand, anger raging in the fires of his blood-red eyes. “Explain yourself, Thanatos.”

“My Lord, punish me how you see fit. Chain me in Tartarus, if you must. What your son and I have is-” Thanatos stops himself, tongue caught between _special,_ and _complicated,_ and _real._

Above him, Lord Hades narrows his eyes. Mother watches from the edge of the East Hall, Hypnos from his divine chaise, and there’s hundreds of souls in the House eavesdropping on this conversation. It’s not the time or the place, and Thanatos clears his throat and chases another thread.

“...There must be a better solution, my Lord. This rift wounds him. Surely the two of you can reach an understanding."

It's the wrong thing to say. What Lord Hades and Prince Zagreus have is nothing like the relationship Nyx holds with her children, nor does Zagreus ever grace his father with his kinder side. The glare Hades levels at him could pierce bedrock.

"I may be its lord, but this is your mother's realm,” Hades growls. “I’ll not banish you from your own domain. I must simply accept that my subjects are not as loyal as I believed.”

Lord Hades’ words wound. Thanatos bows his head, and says, “I’m sorry you feel that way, my Lord. I have been dedicated to you, regardless of my commitments to your son.”

Movement catches his attention; a flash of red in the corner of his eye. When he turns, Zagreus is dripping blood and red ichor onto the tombs tiling the Main Hall. The Prince’s face is scrunched - twisted with guilt and frustration - and a question simmers in his eyes. _You’re in trouble because of me?_

“Than, you didn’t-”

"I'll let you return to your duties, Thanatos," says Hades firmly. “Evidently, my son seeks an audience. Perhaps he comes with an apology for burdening my staff with his foolishness.”

A clear dismissal. Thanatos would defy Lord Hades in the hidden chambers of the Underworld, but never in front of the court. He throws Zagreus a look that promises _soon_ and _it’s alright,_ but it’s pointless. The Prince is already glaring at his Father, crossing his arms and carelessly shaking red droplets onto the floor.

“It’s fine, Zag. Let’s talk later,” Thanatos whispers, before thinking of the Surface. But Zagreus is already talking back to his father, and Thanatos doubts his bold Prince ever heard him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <3  
> Much thanks for Wendy for taking a look at this monster.
> 
> Come say hi @ giosele.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

Zagreus reaches him first, and he does so with a bottle of liquid gold. 

Parchment dangles like a banner from a new table, anchored by a rectangular bottle of ambrosia that glows like a beacon. It’s an absurdly illegal thing to advertise in the West Hall, and it’s a miracle the bottle is still here.

Probably because the writing scrawled across the parchment is so unabashedly Prince Zagreus’.

_ Than, _

_ I’m sorry you got in trouble. Hope this gift makes up for it. _

_ Cheers, _

_ Zag _

Thanatos would laugh if he wasn’t reeling. He ignores the ambrosia, and runs a hand through fresh roses (how can Zagreus afford these?), down the spines of tomes he mentioned in passing, and around the rim of a chalice set suggestively next to the glowing bottle.

_ Ambrosia. _

Something sickly sweet curls up Thanatos’ chest, as warm as the bottle in his hands, and it battles the amused bewilderment that dawns every time Zagreus surprises him with a gift. A new chaise and a few bottles of nectar are one thing, but this- a beautiful suite of gifts topped with the rarest and most exquisite Olympian delicacy- this is a show-stopper.

It’s overkill if Zagreus is apologizing for that quick reprimand from Lord Hades.

Thanatos picks up the bottle and thinks of his Prince. Blinking to him comes easy, now. He’s done it so many times recently; finding his essence in the Underworld is as effortless as reaching for his favorite robe, as natural as breathing, and floating, and reaping a soul.

Thanatos realizes he's smiling when he blinks into Asphodel, because the ache in his cheeks becomes painful when his eyes land on Zagreus. 

His beautiful Prince glances up as he yanks Stygius from the remains of a bloodless.

“Duh-Gong,” mimics Zagreus. He grins over his shoulder, the corners of his mismatched eyes crinkling. “Than! You’re late- I’ve cleared the room already. Does this still count as a win?”

“Zag,” he greets. He can’t think of any other response besides holding up the ambrosia. 

“You left this on my table. Also...you bought me a new table.”

“Yes. Yes, I did,” Zagreus sighs. He kicks the flat of his sword against his foot, dislodging bone and ooze. “I wanted to say thanks, you know, for everything. Listen, I’m sorry that father gave you a hard time about helping me. I need you to know that I appreciate everything you’ve done so far. If it’s getting too much, I would understand if you stopped coming out to see me.”

“It’s not,” Thanatos tells him. It’s laughable how little Thanatos cares about Lord Hades’ wrath when it comes to Zagreus. “And that’s not why I came to see you, Zag. It’s this. You’re being far too generous. How did you even get ambrosia?”

“I destroyed Theseus.” Zagreus’ smirk belies the nonchalance he’s trying for. “Tenth time’s the charm, right?”

“Truly? I’m proud of you.”

Zagreus beams. “Really? Thanks, that-”

“Wait, not there.” Thanatos takes his hand and pulls him towards another raft. “Take this one.”

“Oh, sure. Um, I appreciate it, Than, but...are you allowed to tell me this stuff? I don’t want you to get into more trouble.”

Thanatos shrugs. 

“Don’t worry about me. Your father already knows I’m assisting you,” he squeezes the Prince’s hand. “I know what I’m committing to.”

“Oh. Great. I'm- Thanks."

It’s sweet. Even after all this time, Zagreus still stumbles over each suggestive comment; it’s as if they haven’t been flirting since they rekindled their friendship. Thanatos bites back a smile, and after a beat, the Prince squeezes his hand back. 

“Do you want to come with me?” He asks coyly.

“On the raft?”

“Why not enjoy the scenic route for once? Have you ever cruised the Phlegethon?” Zagreus doesn't wait for an answer before pulling them both onto the enchanted craft. Thanatos lets him, failing to fight the grin on his face. 

There’s barely enough room for both of them, and it's enough of an excuse to press into each other’s space. Zagreus is a line of heat down his unadorned arm, a comfortable pressure against his knee.

For a long, relaxing moment, they sit cross-legged, enjoying the heat of Asphodel and the warmth of each other's company. They count barren islands and watch the never-ending ribbon of lava flow by. It feels as if they’re the only two souls in the Underworld, and it’s a peacefulness Thanatos rarely experiences. 

“So?” Zagreus asks. “What are your thoughts about our lovely boat ride?”

Thanatos barely turns towards him, hyper-aware of how close Zagreus is. If he just turns a bit more, they’d be breathing the same air, a hair’s breadth from a kiss, and Thanatos  _ wants _ so badly to close the gap between them.

He catches Zagreus’ gaze falling to the corner of his mouth, the Prince’s lids narrowing.

It’s ravishing, thinking of how Zagreus holds himself back for him. Thanatos swallows his own desire and steels his voice. 

“Zag, this is a terrible view. It’s just fire.”

“Yeah, the Phlegethon gets old quick,” Zagreus agrees. He leans into Thanatos’ shoulder, searching for something in his chiton. “I have something else for you.”

The Prince holds out a handful of withered leaves before Thanatos can protest.

“Mortals do this, right?” He asks quickly. “They gather plants for the people they’re trying to impress?”

Thanatos smiles. “I believe they gift flowers and not…”

“Dandelions leaves,” Zagreus finishes. “Don’t ask me how I know.”

The plants feel off as soon as Thanatos touches them. They’re freshly plucked from the Earth; he can feel the aura of the mortal world effusing from the leaves, stronger than anything he had experienced in the House, and that should be impossible, unless-

“You did it,” Thanatos realizes. He stares blankly at the weeds in his hand, feeling something like disbelief and hope twist in his chest. 

“You came back.”

“I got sent back,” Zagreus corrects bitterly. “Father was waiting for me right outside the Temple of the Styx to send me back to the House.”

Thanatos turns away, hiding his disappointment and the ache at knowing the Prince didn’t return because he wanted to. For a brief, wonderful moment, he existed in a reality where Zagreus came back to him.

“I see.”

Zagreus nudges his knee. “You’re angry at me.”

“No. Of course not.” 

“Than.”

“I’m simply-” He bites off his words as he looks down. 

The bottle of ambrosia still sits cradled in his lap and Zagreus’ hand-picked plants are still curled in his palm. Leagues down, the West Wing balcony has a slew of new furniture in Thanatos’ favorite colors. 

And next to him, close enough to kiss, Zagreus is still waiting. 

The Prince is never pushing, never asking, constantly apologizing, always keeping to the ever-shifting boundaries Thanatos has set since they revived their friendship- and Thanatos is suddenly deeply ashamed at how ungrateful he’s been.

“-I wasn’t expecting that answer, is all,” Thanatos amends. He clears his throat and thinks about Zagreus, his  _ friend _ , finally getting a taste of something he’s been chasing after for ages. 

“How was it? The surface, that is. Was it everything you expected?”

Thanatos can almost hear Zagreus grin. “It was beautiful, Than. The air is so crisp and fresh, and I never thought the sky could be so many types of blue. It finally felt like I belonged." Zagreus' voice softens. "But you're not a fan, right? I think you always preferred dark, enclosed places. I'll have to find a cave."

"A cave?”

"Don't worry, I picked up some tips on interior decorating. Some pillows and rugs do go a long way. I'll make sure it feels like home, you know, in case you ever decide to visit me up there."

Thanatos smiles, softened at how sweet he is, because despite everything, his Prince still thinks of him.

“Am I to assume this is where you’ll take me for our dates?”

He relishes the sound of Zagreus’ breath catching. 

“They can be whatever you’d like them to be, Than. But, yes, I’d love to take you on a date, whenever you’re ready.”

Sweet again. Zagreus is so lovely, it’s hard to keep from grinning sometimes, harder still, to keep from giving a name to the tender warmth curling in his chest.

“I have been quite unfair to you, Zag,” Thanatos admits. “It’s not been easy getting over what happened between us, but you’re certainly outdoing me with your generosity. The ambrosia alone is...extensive.” 

Thanatos ponders his next step. He needs a gesture. Something that shows he likes the direction they’re going in. Something that promises more.

“I have something for you. It’s-”

“Mort! What, Thanatos, is this...” Firelight graces Zagreus’ features, and he’s looking at Thanatos like he’s giving him the stars. “You’re really giving Mort to me? I...I’m deeply honored! Are you sure?”

Thanatos laughs and explains, “It means I can better keep an eye on you out there. On the surface.”

“He’ll be great to have around, for sure. Still can’t believe you found him after all this time!” Zagreus’ eyes soften on the plush, and Thanatos can’t bring himself to ask if Zagreus understands the gesture before the Prince continues, “You used to always carry him around, I was so sad for you when he got lost.”

Thanatos elbows him. “And I cannot believe you still remember that. Regardless, he will not be getting lost again under your supervision, accurate?”

The Prince clutches Mort to his chest. “Accurate.”

The raft reaches the shore of an island and instinctively, Thanatos sends his gifts to his bedchambers and holds his hand out to Zagreus, who takes it. 

“A fountain chamber,” Zagreus observes. “I guess the other raft would have taken me to a fight? You’re too good to me.”

“And you give me too much credit. Best you preserve your strength for later. Though with the way you’re progressing, you may not need much help.”

“I always appreciate your vote of confidence.”

"Not just mine," Thanatos corrects. He leans against the edge of the fountain. Restorative water spews from the tip, falling like curtains from each layer of the structure. Droplets land on Thanatos’ bicep, cooling his skin and relaxing his muscles.

“Don’t you hear the whispers in the House, Zagreus? Every soul in the Underworld fears crossing paths with you.”

The Prince snorts. “Oh? So I’m scary now? That certainly explains why Theseus spends eighty percent of our match calling me a daemon.”

“Daemon is harsh. What I’m saying is: you're developing quite the reputation."

Zagreus shrugs, letting them plunge into the comfortable silence. It’s blissfully quiet save for the flow of water. The fountain keeps the room cool, diffuses a magic that relaxes them, and the embellished chamber gives them a sense of privacy.

It makes it a little easier for Thanatos to lean into him, to chase his warmth.

“Whoever added this chamber is a genius,” he says. “Never thought I’d find Asphodel hospitable.”

Zagreus shoots him a grin. “You’re looking at the genius that commissioned it.”

“It’s one of your better ideas. Perhaps you should’ve aimed for this from the beginning.”

“My idea was to get through the Underworld quickly, remember? The original terrible plan involved returning to you as soon as possible. Besides,” Zagreus smiles sheepishly and cups his hand under the water. At once, the cuts and calluses dotting his fingers seem to melt off. Zagreus brings his palm up and to his lips and makes a poor attempt at drinking. “I keep forgetting to tell them to add chalices. It’s always a mess when I drink out of them.”

Thanatos snorts. “You’re spilling water all over yourself.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” says Zagreus, but he’s laughing too; half the water in his palm slides down his arms between sips. Eventually, Zagreus gives up and drops his hands.

“Alright, this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t be embarrassing myself in front of my crush.”

“I’m used to it.” Thanatos grins as he reaches out and wipes a drop from his chin. “Gods, Zag, you’re a mess. Come here.”

Zagreus turns; he’s close. His mouth is wet, his chiton is soaked, his bright eyes are wickedly amused, and he’s still the most beautiful soul that Thanatos has ever seen.

“You just want to see what a mess-”   


Thanatos slides his hand around Zagreus’ nape and kisses him. Zagreus gasps into it, frozen for a split second, then he opens his mouth, slides his tongue into Thanatos’ and puts heat into the kiss. Thanatos moans, gives into the warmth curling up his spine, into the spread of Zagreus’ hands around his waist, up his back, and pushes Zagreus against the fountain’s edge. He tips Zagreus’ head back to deepen the kiss, desperate for it, until the Prince is pulling away, panting for air.

“Than,” he groans.

Thanatos pulls away, fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “Sorry.”

“ _ No _ .” 

Zagreus’ wrist wraps around his, and his eyes go wide and panicked as he keeps Thanatos’ hand on his cheek. The Prince’s lips are still wet and open, still gasping, and Thanatos holds back his desire to kiss him again.

“Please,” begs Zagreus. “Please don’t leave. Let’s talk about this.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Thanatos promises. Smiles, before teasing, “You’re the one that’s leaving, remember?”

“Not  _ you _ . Never you.”

Zagreus sounds so desperate, so sincere, it’s incredible Thanatos resisted him for this long. 

He wonders if this is how his Prince felt at the surface too, grasping for something he thinks is out of reach. It’s laughable. Zagreus is brilliant; his escape feels as inevitable as Thanatos’ love for him, and he realizes his sweet, impulsive Prince is unaware of how remarkable he is.

And he realizes he wants to give him everything.

“Zag, I...”

“I love you,” says Zagreus, perfectly steady. He means it. It’s not like the aborted line he joked off in the training grounds. This is Zagreus putting everything on the line, holding his heart on a platter while a question edges his confession.

It's sweet, as always, and it's the easiest gift to accept. 

“I know," says Thanatos.

The words he wants to say cut too deep, feel too raw, but Zagreus' eyes still soften in understanding, and Thanatos manages the next best thing before he pulls him in for another breathtaking kiss.

"I trust you, Zagreus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original plan was to end on them reconciling with some sweet smut, but I figured it was more on brand for them to reconcile before the sexy stuff. I'll just have to write some PWP OS's to make up for the lack of smut here ;)
> 
> Much thanks to Wendy for looking through this chap <3  
> & Much thanks to YOU for reading to the end <3 <3


End file.
